


Kid's Games

by mollymaukerie



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Kissing Games, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, only brief mentions or small scenes with the other characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 03:39:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13732365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mollymaukerie/pseuds/mollymaukerie
Summary: Yasha teaches Beauregard a new set of rules to boulder, parchment, shears.[NSFW]





	Kid's Games

**Author's Note:**

> first time writing nsfw femslash - fyi, i didn't like the idea of using the word cunt so i've just used pussy because. well, yeah, cunt was a bit too much for me i guess.

After an impromptu gnoll hunt through the wilds around Alfield, the journey onward to Zadash took less than a week along the northern road. The travel was all well and good, but none one could deny the allure of a warm tavern, with hot food that wasn’t a tiny spit-roasted rabbit, and enough beds for everyone to sleep in comfortably _._

Yasha had spent her fair share of life on the road. She learned to take sleep where she could, be it in a chair with her feet propped up and Mollymauk’s coat over her, or in the back of a rattling wagon while a small goblin girl tucked flowers into her pockets without her knowing until that night at the campfire. She was used to tuning out noise, and she never had an issue switching between a day or night cycle. She didn’t mind staying up through the nights to keep watch either, chatting idly with Mollymauk by the fire just before her shift was over.

He was a talker, usually knowing what to say and when to say it, and sometimes saying something else on purpose entirely. More often than not though, that silver tongue landed him in trouble. They passed around a wineskin, smirked, and chatted in hushed whispers about their new companions.

Mollymauk had a piqued interest in Fjord, and Caleb too for that matter. Both of them seemed to be hiding something; Caleb was far from subtle about his past, what with his and Nott’s accidental comments about their recent activities, and Fjord…

Well, Fjord seemed quite upstanding, kind too. It was hard to fault him in anything, which made him even more interesting. And that dream he woke from, coughing up seawater, it was hardly a normal thing to experience. Yasha was extremely intrigued by the way he was able to manifest the falchion into his hand. That, she believed, was something to keep an eye on, if not out of caution than sheer curiosity.

Jester was…well, Jester. An enigma in her own right, what with her antics and her little journal of sketches. Not to mention Nott; they were both intrigued on that front. A small goblin girl behind a creepy little mask, travelling with a human who was so openly affectionate with her – now that made for a story, one best shared over fine liquor, preferably. As for Beauregard…

Well, Mollymauk thought she was a smartass, and not the funny kind.

“I can’t remember the last time someone managed to get under my skin the way she does,” Mollymauk murmured with a slight hiss, recalling the way Beauregard had handled the remains of Kylre. While they had both felt surprised and betrayed by Kylre, they had known him for a while, and family was family. “Worse still that she is actually competent, gods help me.”

“I kinda like her,” Yasha said with a half-cocked grin. It wasn’t a lie, but she said it mostly to tease Mollymauk. Those familiar red eyes narrowed at her as Mollymauk pointed at her with a finely manicured nail.

“Oh, I _know_ what you think of her,” Mollymauk grumbled, but Yasha could see he was refraining from smiling as well.

“Really? I thought I was rather subtle about it,” Yasha replied. She had been, if she didn’t count the way she’d offered to pick her up and carry Beauregard shortly after just meeting her.

“Yasha you are as subtle as you are short,” Mollymauk said with a quiet laugh, sipping away some of the sea-green liquor he had gotten in Alfield. He bought a bottle of it just before they left to nurse when he needed it most, but he promised to share it with her.

She laughed at his jest though, and while both of them had something of a hangover the next morning, it was well worth it. Jester offered to soothe their headaches, which was plenty sweet of her. She did so with a soft pat on their heads each and just a slight hint of magic. It helped some, but the dull ache persisted into the evening.

The cosy warmth of one of Zadash’s fine inns was a welcome change of pace after more than a week of travel. Yasha was looking forward to a bed to claim for herself, and maybe even a bath. She was certain she still had dried gnoll blood in her hair. It made her smell even worse than Caleb.

She must have taken hours in the bathing area of the inn, undoing the various braids in her hair and being careful to wash the blood from it. She took a moment to glance over her scars, the old and the new, in doing so. When she went back downstairs in a loose tunic and her trousers, she happily sat in a booth and let Jester squeeze in behind her to sit on the wood panel separating it from another. Jester combed her hair slowly, complimenting the two tones and the baubles Yasha had handed her for when she decided to braid it for her.

Eventually though, Jester was distracted by the songs the tavern floor’s patron bards, who Jester and Nott dared to tell the tale of their gnoll hunt. Mollymauk left their booth to sit closer, amused by the show unfolding, and Caleb and Fjord watched from the other side of the tavern floor, as they had been ordering drinks at the bar.

It left Beauregard and herself at the booth, separated by a table of wood and several already empty ale mugs.

“Do you want a hand with the rest of those?” Beauregard said after a moment of idly watching Jester wave at the bards to get their attention.

“…Sure, why not,” Yasha said, palming the rest of the baubles and beads for her hair. There was enough left for a few braids, and while she could handle the rest easily enough, well. Why not, indeed?

Beauregard grabbed one of the mugs in front of her that still had a meagre sip of ale in it and sculled it quickly before shifting around the booth to Yasha’s side. Yasha laid out the baubles on the table for her pick as she worked.

Beauregard let her fingers slide through thin lengths of hair, doing her best to entwine them without letting the hair fall from her grasp. She fumbled for a while, the braids not being as tight as Yasha told her to get them.

“You’re not very good at this,” Yasha said candidly as a smirk tugged at her lips.

Beside her, Beauregard’s small smile grew wide and she let out something that sounded like a nervous chuckle. “I’m not really one for long hair,” she said, gesturing to her own hairstyle, the sides of which were shaved. “Not to say this look doesn’t work for you; it does.”

“What, you never did the whole plaiting-circle with the other towns-girls?” Yasha teased. Yasha couldn’t picture it at all, a younger Beauregard sitting quietly braiding the hair of another girl while someone did the same for her. At least, not without her tugging at the braid to tease the girl in front of her.

“Wasn’t much for that either,” Beauregard replied, her lip curling up somewhat in disgust but there was enough of a hint of mischief in her eyes to tell Yasha she enjoyed the conversation.

“What, where you a lil’ recluse? Can’t imagine that,” Yasha said.

“Hey, I had fun as a kid, okay?” Beauregard replied, only somewhat defensive as she gave a gentle tug to the braid she had failed to tie.

“Oh yeah? You play boulder, parchment, shears?” Yasha asked, her smirk widening more.

Beauregard sent her a look of utter disbelief. “ _Everyone_ knows how to play that,” she said incredulously. Without a hint of effort, Yasha lifted her arm up to rest her elbow on the back of the booth, leaning forward enough to tilt her lips close to Beauregard’s earlobe.

“I mean the _fun_ version,” Yasha purred, dropping her voice an octave to let the suggestion settle in Beauregard’s mind as her breath ghosted passed her ear. She could see a hint of a flush rising in Beauregard’s face. Clearing her throat, Beauregard tried to reclaim her voice.

“I believe you, uh…said you’d teach me that version,” she replied softly, her voice no more than a hushed whisper near Yasha’s jaw.

“Hmm…did I now?” Yasha asked rhetorically. She remembered her words well enough. It was more a test to make sure Beauregard was aware of what she was hinting at.

She pulled back just enough to return Beauregard’s hooded gaze. The faint ice-blue of her eyes stared up under from short brown eyelashes, and Beauregard sucked her lower lip into her mouth, holding it for a moment with her teeth.

“Yeah, you did…” she said quietly, not letting her gaze wander from Yasha’s heterochromatic eyes.

With another smirk, Yasha leaned in close, just enough to let her lips graze against Beauregard’s. She felt Beauregard exhale a soft sigh, her chin shifting up to let her lips slide over Yasha’s.

“Meet me upstairs,” Yasha said, letting her lips move over Beauregard’s, because swiftly standing up and walking away from the booth.

She didn’t turn around her as she made her way over to the bar, but behind her, Beauregard was quickly scooping up the remaining beads and hurriedly scurrying out of the booth to make her way to the staircase that led to the upper floors, where the inn’s tenant rooms were.

At the bar, Yasah pulled out a handful of silver pieces and asked for a bottle of spiced wine. To her right, Fjord looked over his shoulder to see Beauregard racing upstairs, and turned to face Yasha.

“You have something to do with that?” he asked cautiously, not quite sure about what had transpired.

“Yep,” Yasha said as the barkeep turned back to her and handed over the bottle of wine, the deep blue liquid within swirling against the sides of the glass.

“Care to elaborate?” he asked, fixing her with a suspicious gaze.

“Sure;” she said brusquely, “you’re not invited.”

With that, she turned on her heel and made her way to the back of the tavern floor towards the staircase. Along the way, Mollymauk sent her a highly amused grin, but one with mixed with a hint of mocking disgust. As she passed, she clapped her hand to his shoulder, and he swung his arm up to slap at her arm gently, a silent gesture of ‘ _go and have fun._ ’

She fully intended to, or at least have as much fun as she possibly could, and she made her way up the stairs with heavy but quick footfalls.

They had all acquired their own separate rooms at the inn since the vacancies had been available and noticing that her own door was left slightly ajar, she made her way over towards it. As she opened the door, she saw Beauregard beginning to sit down on the bed, but she quickly stood up as Yasha made her way in. If Yasha didn’t know any better, she’d think Beauregard might be flustered, nervous even.

Thankfully, at times like this, she did know better.

With a quick laugh, Yasha closed the door behind her. “Relax Beau,” she said, taking the key from her pocket to lock the door behind her. She let the thread of it hang on the door handle itself before turning her attention to the wine. “So, you don’t know how to play?”

“Well, I mean, I can guess at the end game,” Beauregard said with a measure of confidence, albeit somewhat faltering.

Yasha uncorked the wine bottle with her teeth and spat the cork out, letting it bounce on the ground while she took a swig. She held it out to Beauregard, who took it hastily to begin chugging it down. Before she could have more than a few deep gulps, Yasha grabbed the base of the bottle, gently lowering it until she could tap Beauregard’s chin up.

“Easy there,” Yasha said, letting the grin on her lips widen naturally as she held Beauregard’s chin up with her index finger. “The game is much more fun when you’re sober.”

Beauregard exhaled softly, dragging her tongue along her lip, indulging in the lingering taste of the wine. “So, what are the rules?” she asked.

Setting the bottle on the bedside table behind Beauregard, Yasha let her hand slide down her throat, coming to a rest on her shoulder. Truth be told, she didn’t exactly feel like playing, but the thought of teasing Beauregard was enough motivation to keep her composure.

“Same rules, boulder beats shears, shears beats parchment, parchment beats boulder,” Yasha said simply, letting her gaze wander not-so-subtly down Beauregard’s chest, admiring the firm muscle of her waist.

“What’s the catch?” Beauregard asked, her cheeks flushing a little more under that intense gaze.

“The catch is,” Yasha said softly, dropping her voice and letting it become a whisper, “the loser strips, and the winner decides what article comes off.”

“That’s it?” Beauregard replied, a little surprised by the simplicity.

“Trust me, the real fun happens late-game,” Yasha assured her, even daring a slight wink.

With a little tug, she pulled Beauregard to the side gently, making a gesture to sit herself on the floor as Yasha sat in front of her, barely an arm’s length of distance between them. Beauregard slouched against the side of the bed, letting herself rest there, keeping herself as composed as possible with Yasha’s larger figure leaning forward, close enough to touch.

Yasha lifted a loosely closed fist, holding it in front of her and quietly waiting for Beauregard to do the same. When she did, Yasha smiled.

“On three,” she said, and when Beauregard nodded, she began to count, their hands moving in tandem. “One, two, three.”

They both made a gesture; Yasha chose shears, and Beauregard had chosen parchment. With a little smile, she leaned back and told her to lose the thin coat, which Beauregard confidently shucked and let rest behind her.

They repeated the process, only this time Yasha lost. She could see Beauregard visibly swallow while looking her up and down, a gaze Yasha was used to from her by that point. Who cared if it had only been two weeks since their meeting? It was all fun and games, as they said.

With a little upward jerk of her chin, Beauregard told her to lose her tunic, trying to say it as calmly as possible to fool Yasha into thinking she was composed. Or maybe to fool herself.

Lifting her arms up, Yasha tugged at the loose collar of her casual tunic, tugging it overhead and bundling it in her lap to toss aside as her thick hair tumbled around her shoulders. With a flick, she pushed it back, revealing the pale skin of her chest covered only by a thin wrapping of linen that covered her bust and part of her waist. She watched Beauregard’s eyes shift, her gaze roving over the muscle of her chest, and then up to admire the broadness of her shoulders.

With another gesture, Yasha was ready for a third round.

“What, I don’t get a moment to enjoy the view?”

“Nope, hurry up.”

Another round, another loss, and Beauregard less confidently stripped back the dark blue shirt that covered her bust. She had a thinner shirt under it, but tighter to keep her bust in place. With one more round, and another loss stacked against her, Beauregard’s confidence had melted away. It wasn’t exactly a game one could cheat at, but not even Yasha had expected her to lose three times in a row.

“Well, which is it gonna be?” Beauregard asked, gesturing to the wrap around her chest or her loose pants.

With a smirk, Yasha lifted herself onto her knees, and moved to close the gap between them. She watched Beauregard’s limbs tense, her gaze becoming full of anticipation once more.

“I think I need a moment to decide,” Yasha breathed out, her nose brushing against Beauregard’s as their lips brushed together once more.

“Any way I can help with that decision,” Beauregard asked, swallowing hard and letting her words come out in a breathy sigh.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Yasha said, letting herself shift forward more while bringing her hands up to slide under Beauregard’s jaw.

After another shaking breath, Beauregard tilted her chin up, closing the minute gap between their lips properly. Yasha held her gaze for a moment, and Beauregard did the same as Yasha’s lips moved over her own in a tender kiss before lulling shut to enjoy the moment. Eyelids fluttered, and hands began to move with purpose. Beauregard let her hands reach up, sliding over Yasha’s broad shoulders and down her chest, resting for a moment of the hard and tense muscle of her abdomen.

With a half-cocked grin pressing into the kiss, Yasha bit down gently on Beauregard’s lip, drawing another quiet sigh, one more pitched to match a gasp. She tugged at it and released it, pressing their lips together once more in a more open-mouthed kiss, letting her tongue slide over her lips before Beauregard did the same. They were both experienced enough to keep their teeth from knocking while the kiss deepened, and sighs began to fill the air around them.

Just as Beauregard felt as though she had garnered enough control of the kiss, Yasha pulled back, letting her lips slide across Beauregard’s cheek and down the curve of her jaw, pressing soft, feather-light kisses along the way. She could feel Beauregard swallowing under her lips, even more so when her hands slid up her waist, halting for a moment under her bust.

“May I?” The question was quiet, but full of intent.

With a hasty nod, Beauregard tilted her head back, indulging at the feeling of lips at her throat. “Gods, yes,” she sighed, raising her hands to push them into Yasha’s still slightly damp hair.

Yasha didn’t need much more encouragement than that. Careful not to break the wrap, Yasha tugged at the thick bands, finding the loosest one and pulling it free. She let her hands shift, fingers sliding across dark skin as the wrap came free, and Yasha let her lips wander down, pressing against the crook of her neck. She bit down gently, letting her tongue slide over the hollow of her throat before pressing her lips harder and beginning to suck.

As the linen came free, falling loosely at Beauregard’s hips, Yasha let her hands slide from her sides to the front. Her touch was gentle at first, thumbs sliding over nipples and her palms pressing into her breasts, groping them gently as Beauregard let her head fall back against the mattress of the bed, a proper, but quiet, moan escaping her throat as Yasha peeled away from it.

Beauregard’s grip on Yasha’s hair tightened when Yasha let her lips slide down, hovering just barely over skin in between kisses she pressed to her breasts. She nipped in places, sucking on the smooth skin and letting her tongue flick ever so softly against her hardening nipples. Beauregard’s hips rolled forward at times, and Yasha tried to keep her breathing steady as she could feel herself becoming more impatient as the pace picked up.

Her touch became a little quicker, a little rougher, a little more desperate. Her mouth closed over one nipple, tongue sliding hard and swivelling while groping and pressing a hand against her other breast, fingers slipping to tug at her nipple a little harder. Her other hand quickly became occupied tugging at the sash around her hips. Just as frustrated by the pace, Beauregard let go of Yasha’s hair to help undo the sash. As soon as it was undone and Yasha could hook her fingers under the hem of her pants, Yasha switched gears.

Wrapping both her arms around Beauregard’s thighs, Yasha lifted her up to place her on the bed. She dragged her lips down her chest, her tongue dragging against her skin as her hands shifted to begin tugging her pants off entirely. Beauregard hooked her heels under the bottom of the bedframe, trying and failing to take her feet out of the bound wraps around her calves.

Yasha made quick work of it. She leaned back for a moment, hands sliding hard down muscled calves to pull the fabric down until she could yank the rest of it off and throw it against the far wall before standing up on her knees to hover over Beauregard’s naked form. Yasha pressed kisses across her stomach, slipping lower between her legs until she could close her mouth over the bud of her clitoris. She sucked on it for a moment, gently dragging her tongue over it as Beauregard arched her back up slightly, letting another moan part her lips, this one louder than before.

“Oh fuck, Yash-ah!” Beauregard breathed out, her hands moving down to grip Yasha’s hair once more and tug on it roughly.

When Yasha pulled away to press her lips against Beauregard’s thigh, she let out a groan; unsatisfied, irritated even, and Beauregard’s hand tugged more at her hair with a wordless demand for something more pleasurable.

Yasha was content to remain for a moment, digging her teeth into her thigh as she smirked, before leading another trail of kisses back to her clit, happy to watch as Beauregard, frustrated, began to pleasure herself. Beauregard’s fingers slid over the folds of her pussy, becoming slick with her own pre-cum before she began to slide her middle finger against her clit. Her hips rolled with her own movement, and when Yasha pressed between her legs again, dragging her tongue slowly between the wet lips and along her fingers, Beauregard bucked her hips upward with another gasping moan.

“What do you want me to do?” Yasha asked after pulling away for a brief moment, sliding her hand gently up Beauregard’s pelvis and back down to tease her clit.

“Fuck– more– more with your tongue,” Beauregard breathed out. Yasha nodded in reply as she wrapped her arms under Beauregard’s thighs to pull her closer.

As Yasha dragged her tongue between her folds and over her clit, flicking the tip of her tongue inside her slightly, Beauregard only just managed to muffle herself by biting down on the bandaged knuckle of her fingers. In between bucking her hips up into Yasha’s touch and pressing her heels hard into Yasha’s spine, Beauregard could tell it wouldn’t be long until she reached her climax.

She pushed herself up onto her elbows, and as she straightened to sit upright, she could feel Yasha’s tongue pressing deeper into her. Her reaction was immediate, and she let out a breathless moan, her legs tensing as she pressed her thighs tight against Yasha’s head and shoulders as she balanced her legs on her curling toes. Instinctively, she dropped her hand to the base of Yasha’s skull to pull her close, to recreate that sensation once more. Yasha didn’t need much coaxing, and Beauregard melted at her touch, placing a hand to grip the sheets at her side and rolling her hips against Yasha’s tongue.

When Beauregard looked down at her, lips parted from every other gasping moan that escaped her throat, she was met by those heterochromatic eyes gazing up at her. A gaze of pale blue and violet staring up at her, admiring all there was before her. One of Yasha’s thickly muscled arms wrapped around her thigh, lifting it higher than the other, so that she could rub her fingers against her clit more while thrusting her tongue inside her slowly. Yasha’s other arm let go of her leg, beginning to slide up her chest and putting pressure there until Beauregard was laying down one more, and Yasha’s fingers grazed over her nipple.

Beauregard held her hand with her own, gripping it tightly and encouraging her to hold it harder while she writhed under her, her hips bucking up faster with every slip of Yasha’s tongue inside her.

Every moment was complete and utter bliss, and Beauregard could think of nothing save the heat in her stomach as she arched her back higher and higher off the bed, her own hands switching between tugging at Yasha’s hair, gripping the sheets beside her hips, and groping her own breasts. She wasn’t sure if she had lost her voice or not, each moan coming out more like a breathless whine or hollow gasp.

She was close, almost at her climax, so eager for it with a hundred breathless moans to the gods, almost begging for it, for Yasha.

But then, Yasha slowed. She pulled back, breathing hard against her wet lips, flicking her tongue gently against her clit while rubbing her folds, her fingers sliding as she gently pushed the first knuckle of a finger inside her. Beauregard let out a hitched gasp, and another as she felt Yasha rolling her finger in a slow circle, pushing it deeper to the second knuckle as she pressed kisses up her chest while climbing onto the bed.

Finally within reach again, Beauregard’s hands grabbed at her waist, pulling her closer until Yasha was straddling her. Lips met sloppily, a deep and passionate kiss as Beauregard moaned into her mouth as Yasha fingered her. The desire to touch more, to feel more, kept growing in the back of her mind. She didn’t want it to be one-sided; she wanted to Yasha to experience the pleasure she did.

As they kissed, Beauregard let her hands slide down Yasha’s chest, tracing the hard and taut muscles of her abdomen that heaved with her breath. She dropped her hands, fingers tugging at the belts around her hips roughly until she was able to loosen them enough to shove her hands into her trousers.

She felt Yasha gasp, a moan passing from her mouth to her own as Beauregard slid her fingers up and down her pussy, one hand immediately rubbing and pressing against her clit while the other became slick with her pre-cum. Yasha’s hips bucked forward, her hips rolling to match Beauregard’s movement. She broke the kiss after a moment, her hair a wild mess that fell over her shoulders as she put her own hand into her trousers. She gripped at Beauregard’s wrist, holding it as Beauregard began to finger her as well.

Under her, Beauregard bit down hard on her lip, watching as Yasha tilted her head back, exposing her throat to the ceiling as she bounced her hips to grind hard against her fingers, her chest heaving with each and every moan. Even half dressed, with her trousers now sliding to her knees, she was a sight to behold.

“You like that?” Beauregard breathed out, her voice barely more than a rasping murmur as she rubbed her fingers down from Yasha’s clit over the folds, her other hand moving fast to thrust her ring and index finger deeper into her.

She must have touched a sensitive spot as she spoke; Yasha’s back arched, her chest pressed into Beauregard’s a little more, her thighs tensed, and her hips shuddered. Her pre-cum dripped down Beauregard’s wrist, and she grinned while letting her chin drop back down to stare at her.

“Fuck yeah,” Yasha moaned, rolling her hips so that Beauregard’s palm pressed against her pelvis. “You?”

As she asked, Beauregard felt Yasha’s fingers spread apart slightly within her and pressing hard enough to draw a loud gasp from her throat. She pressed her hips hard into the bed, her toes curling more against the wooden floors.

“Oh gods, fuck,” she breathed out as the roiling sensation in the pit of her stomach quelled for a moment. “Fuck, you’re going to make me cum…!”

Yasha pulled her hand away from Beauregard’s wrist to grab a handful of her hair, loose from the ponytail after writhing on the bed so. She tugged on it enough to pull Beauregard’s head back, exposing her throat as she dropped her lips there to suck the hollow of her neck again. As Beauregard let out another gasp, Yasha moaned against her throat, shaking her hips harder against her hand as she pressed into her more. Beauregard’s arm wrapped around her waist, palm pressed hard and flat against her spine as she dug her short fingernails in. She pulled Yasha closer, their bodies close and hips bumping together as they bucked into the other’s touch.

“I want to cum with you,” Yasha moaned against her throat, sliding her lips up against her jaw to her ear, moaning into it more.

“F-fuck,” Beauregard breathed out, dropping her head back against the mattress and letting her hand drop from Yasha’s spine to her thigh, tugging on it until she could spread her legs more. The more her climax creeped closer, the harder it was to keep focus on thrusting her fingers. She could feel Yasha pause at times, enough to suck in a breath and flex her fingers a little before pressing them deeper, rubbing deep inside her.

“Beau,” Yasha moaned her name as she lifted her forehead off the mattress to hover over her a little more.

If she had wanted to say something more, Beauregard didn’t give her a chance. She reached up, grabbing a handful of her hair at the base of her skull to pull her down into a rough and sloppy kiss that was interrupted by one moan after the other.

“I’m gonna cum Ya–! Yashh–!” Beauregard could barely finish her name without it being caught up in a moan, and every breath of it passing against Yasha’s lips left her with a shudder.

“Beau– fuck, Beau–!” Yasha gasped her name, the moan bouncing against the walls of her small room.

The coil of tension that had been building and building in her stomach released all at once, leaving her shaking and bucking her hips hard for several seconds as she came. Under her, Beauregard bucked her hips until they were almost off the mattress, kept there only by the weight of Yasha’s body quickly pressing into her. The feeling of her body quaking with tremor after tremor as the pleasure rolled through her body from head to toe, her orgasm accompanied by a pitched groan that surely someone down the hall could hear.

They lay there for a moment, slowly pulling their hands free, and feeling the other quiver and roll hips into the vacant space where a hand once was. It was quickly filled by a thigh, and more sighs filled the room as they indulged in the aftershocks of their climax, gyrating against the other slowly as sticky fingers pressed into the sheets to hastily clean them. Beauregard tried to bring her own to her lips, to have a taste for herself, but Yasha claimed her lips much too quickly.

Both were a mess, with Beauregard entirely naked save for the wraps of linen around her arms, and Yasha with her trousers bundled at her knees and her bust still covered. The thick mass of Yasha’s hair fell over her shoulders around Beauregard, acting as a veil to the world beyond. Nothing existed beyond her lips and her touch in that moment.

After several short, breathless kisses, Yasha leaned back, sighing at the sudden lack of heat against her chest from Beauregard’s weight under her. She shifted, laying back along the mattress as Beauregard sat up to scoot beside her, daring even to straddle her in an effort to chase lips for one more kiss.

“We should play this game more often…” she said softly, half in jest, and half hoping Yasha wished the same.

She felt Yasha smile into their kiss, and with another soft sigh, pulled Beauregard into another kiss. “Oh, didn’t I mention?” she asked. “It’s best two out of three.”

Beauregard barked a laugh into the kiss, almost knocking teeth with Yasha before pulling back to lean over her. Yasha’s palms slid up her waist, rubbing her sides and shifting under her breasts again.

With a grin, Beauregard leaned off the bed to find the wine bottle, happily taking a long swig and leaning back down into Yasha to kiss her deeply, letting the taste of wine press into the roof of her mouth.

Not that she didn’t mind the sight of Yasha towering over her and pinning her to the bed, but it sure was a sight to see her laying beneath her, and the thought to see how much Beauregard could make her writhe under her had crossed her mind far too many times before that night to let the chance fly by her.

If it was best two of out of three, Beauregard intended to get her fill for the night.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: mollymaukerie


End file.
